The fundamental problem that drives my
new book, Air Wars: The Fight to Reclaim Public Broadcasting
(Beacon Press, 2000), is how to promote a media system that
serves democratic governance in a mass society. Certainly, our
democracy is threatened if political or economic authorities
have too much control over our information and discussion.
Today, a mere six corporations control more than half of all
U.S. communications enterprises—books, magazines, newspapers,
music, motion pictures, radio, and television. The names are
familiar: AOL Time Warner, AT&T, CBS/Viacom, General Electric,
Disney, and the (Murdoch) News Corporation.
Studies have shown that this brings with it excessive commercialism,
bias, and censorship. In fact, one recent study of 241 commercial
TV reporters and editors found 59 percent admitting to "pressure"
even from within their stations "to not produce news stories
that advertisers might find objectionable."
In 1967, a special Carnegie Commission reported to President
Lyndon Johnson on the need for public television in America.
The Commission recognized that "all that is of human interest
and importance" may not be "appropriate or available
for support by advertising" and proposed a service free
of commercial constraints. Public television was to "serve
as a forum for controversy and debate" where one could "hear
the voices of groups not normally heard" and "see America
whole, in all its diversity."
Congress enacted the Public Broadcasting Act that year, but declined
to establish a mechanism for permanent and independent funding.
As a consequence, U.S. public broadcasters have felt compelled
to appease those upon whom they depend for their support: conservative
political officials, affluent subscribers, and corporate program
underwriters.
Today, viewers get a Nightly Business Report and a weekly
Wall Street Week, but not one regular program for people
seeking alternative perspectives on the workplace, environment,
human rights, or consumer affairs. A 1998 study of who gets to
speak on public television's public affairs shows found them
dominated by the voices of government and corporate officials.
Public interest group leaders accounted for only six percent
of all sources.
In recent years, the very non-commercial nature of PBS has been
under assault. There are more co-production deals with commercial
partners looking for marketing spin-offs, like Reader's Digest
and Disney's Buena Vista. There are e-commerce services and partnerships
with retail outlets like Learningsmith and Tree of Knowledge.
Five-second underwriting acknowledgements have expanded into
30-second commercials, including pitches on children's programs
for theme parks and junk food like McDonald's, Chuck E. Cheese,
and Kellogg's Sugar Frosted Flakes.
As a member of the WVU School of Applied Social Sciences and
a humanist, I do scholarship which typically springs from my
community involvement, is problem focused, and policy oriented.
In April 1993, the CEO of WQED Pittsburgh disclosed a $7.4 million
debt, dismissed a fourth of his staff, and resigned his position.
A station manager said the fiscal crisis would lead to cutbacks
in programming "the business community will not support."
From 1996 to 2000, wishing to regain their position as a national
producer, WQED officials petitioned the FCC to commercialize
and sell off Channel 16, the home of sister station WQEX.
In response, I organized a local movement of concerned citizens.
We challenged a pattern of wasteful mismanagement and garnered
much press. Over 1993 to 1996, I served both on WQED's Corporate
Governance Committee and Community Advisory Board. My group later
opposed WQED's FCC petition on the grounds that Channel 16 is
owned by the community and only held in trust by the WQED Corporation
as long as it serves the public interest. With no staff and limited
resources, we effectively stopped a $52 million deal.
Research made me aware of the structural sources of our local
problem. I immersed myself in the vast literature on public broadcasting
and interviewed scores of public broadcasters, communications
attorneys, and community activists. I recruited a working group
of public broadcasting scholars and veterans to create a proposal
for how to reform the service, starting with a mechanism for
permanent and independent funding and enforceable guidelines
for public accountability.
In time, the distinguished public broadcasters Bill Moyers and
Jack Willis took notice. Their foundations provided the support
to launch a Washington, D.C., based grassroots reform campaign,
which I named Citizens for Independent Public Broadcasting (CIPB).
We now are engaged in building chapters across the country. I
feel privileged to serve as a spokesperson for public broadcasting
reform even while back at the University. Look for a CIPB chapter
in your town and help to put the public back into public broadcasting.
Those interested in CIPB may consult its web site at www.cipbonline.org
or call (202) 638-6880.